


Creative Differences

by FemailoftheSpecies



Series: The Scourge of Europe [9]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 17:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FemailoftheSpecies/pseuds/FemailoftheSpecies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They still don't get along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creative Differences

“Where is he?!” 

Darla stomped her way around the townhouse, her small booted feet scraping the wooden floors, wild eyes searching every corner. Her left hand tightly clutched at her skirts, lifting them so that she didn't trip, while the right embraced a partially balled up piece of parchment.

Soaking up the heat like a big lazy cat, Angelus sat in the large chair by the fire in the library. “Where’s who?” he asked, although he was pretty certain who _who_ was, if moderately unconcerned. 

She whirled around on the other vampire, her countenance a soaring example of seething rage. “The little mongrel that your loon of a childe dragged home!”

As if enlightened, he nodded. “Oh, him. He _is_ one of the family now, Darla. You should try to be more accommodating.”

She stared at him waiting for the answer and he finally gave in. “I saw him run out with our precious girl not an hour ago. I suspect they’ll be gone a while.” He had no idea what the boy had done this time to infuriate his sire ... and so close their trip to see the Master ... but if enough time passed, William might be able to side-step most of her torturous wrath. He inclined his head toward her hand. “What’s that?”

She held it out to Angelus, her fingers shaking from the effort of restraining that delectable violence inside her. “This is another one of his poems,” she stated with false calm. When he only gave her the blank stare that shouted _are you really getting this upset over few words?_ , she shoved it under his nose and growled, “Read it.”

With a sigh, he took the wrinkled paper.

 

_Roses are red_

_But blondes are daft and thick_

_Coz if Darla thinks I’ll let her bat-faced sire shag me_

_That bitch can suck my –_

 

“I’ll stake him!"


End file.
